


it's wanting what you've got

by waveridden



Category: Blaseball (Video Game)
Genre: 5 Times, 5+1 Things, Gen, Hellmouth Sunbeams, Season/Series 05
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-08
Updated: 2020-09-08
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:08:12
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,888
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26353189
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/waveridden/pseuds/waveridden
Summary: Eugenia sighs. She has a lot to get used to here - like, alotto get used to - but sometimes she forgets that they have to get used to her, too.Five conversations Eugenia Bickle has in a new dimension, and one she has with an old friend.
Relationships: Eugenia Bickle & Hellmouth Sunbeams, Theodore Duende/Randall Marijuana
Comments: 8
Kudos: 44





	it's wanting what you've got

**Author's Note:**

> I am now participating in the cultural event of Blaseball! I'm not in the Discord, so this is 50% the wiki, 25% Twitter RP, and 25% I Love Eugenia Bickle. Title comes from [Soak up the Sun](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KIYiGA_rIls) by Sheryl Crow.
> 
> Content warnings for discussion of alternate reality/dimensions, if that freaks you out, as well as an incineration and the aftermath.

1.

It takes Eugenia three rings to answer the phone. “Lars?”

“Hi,” Lars says cheerfully, as though they’re not calling at - she glances at her clock - 3:27 in the morning. “What time is pitching practice?”

“Not 3:30 in the morning.”

“Good, that would be inconvenient.”

Eugenia waits for the sarcasm to land. And waits. And waits some more. Lars seems to have missed it, and honestly it might’ve been a little mean of her to react like that, because maybe this is normal for Lars and she wouldn’t know it. It’s things like this that make her homesick: not knowing the habits.

“Eugenia?” Lars says eventually. “Do you know what time-”

She yawns and sits up fully in bed, rolling her shoulders as she does. “Gimme a second to look at my calendar.”

“Thanks, E.”

“Don’t call me E,” Eugenia says, and yawns again. “Uh. Please.”

“Yeah,” Lars says, but they sound a little more subdued now, and Eugenia instantly feels bad. “Sorry, it’s- old habits, you know?”

Eugenia sighs. She has a lot to get used to here - like, a  _ lot _ to get used to - but sometimes she forgets that they have to get used to her, too. Even changing one person on the team is a big adjustment. It’s probably a bigger adjustment when she looks and acts like old Eugenia.

She opens her calendar and stares at the little loading symbol. “They used to call me Gigi,” she says. Lars makes a noise halfway between curiosity and disgust, and she can’t help but huff out a little laugh. “Yeah, they started out doing it because I didn’t like it. But by the end I could tell that they were doing it out of fondness, or habit or something.”

“Does that make it better?”

“No,” she admits, and Lars laughs softly. “No, it still drove me insane, but at least it was the family kind of insane.”

“So I shouldn’t call you Gigi?”

“Don’t call me Gigi, don’t call me E.” She pauses. “Did… did she-”

“She didn’t care much either way,” Lars says. “I don’t think we ever did Gigi. It was normally E or Eugenia. Igneus used to call her Genie. They were the only one who did.”

“Genie,” she repeats. “I like Genie.”

“Cool,” Lars says, and Eugenia kind of wants to cry in relief, for no reason at all. “Did I have a nickname? When you knew me?”

“Yeah, Hollywood used to call you Cyclops.”

“I have zero eyes.”

“It’s a comic book character.”

“I don’t read comic books.”

“I don’t think she did either.”

“Bad nickname,” Lars says. “Not very me. I like No Stars Lars.”

“I think it’s great,” Eugenia says, and she’s kind of surprised to realize that she means it. “It fits you.”

“Yeah,” they answer. She can hear the smile in their voice. “I’m pretty happy with it.”

“Good.” She looks back at her phone. “Uh, noon. It starts at noon.”

“Cool.” Lars pauses for so long that Eugenia starts to wonder if they just hung up, another habit that she wouldn’t know yet, and then says, “Hey.”

“Hey.”

“We’ve got a Sunbeams pitcher tradition. The five of us.”

“Yeah?”

“Between practice and the first game of the season, we go out for lunch.”

“That’s it?”

“And we use a random number generator to pick the restaurant and what we order.”

Eugenia blinks. “Really?”

“Yeah, I know it’s weird, but-”

“We used to do that,” she says, and she can practically hear Lars’s jaw click shut. “But we did it first thing after we got eliminated. We called it festival season, do you guys have a name for it?”

“Party time,” Lars answers, and Eugenia huffs in frustration. “I know, it’s close. Ours is catchier.”

“Yeah, it is.”

“Are you in for lunch?”

“Of course.”

“Good,” Lars says, and Eugenia smiles. There’s all sorts of different things about this reality, but at least Lars sounds the same. “Then I’ll see you at noon. But Hellmouth noon.”

“Hellmouth noon,” Eugenia repeats. “Yeah. Bye, Lars.”

“Bye, Genie.”

The call disconnects with a soft beep. Eugenia settles back in bed and sighs. She’s too awake now to just go back to sleep, and she’s been trying to avoid googling other Eugenia and seeing all of… that. She doesn’t want to think about the person whose life she usurped. She doesn’t want to think about a lot of things. And it’s all she really has to think about.

Eugenia sighs and presses redial. Lars picks up instantly. “Genie?”

“I’m not going to be able to sleep,” she says bluntly. “And I want to watch TV, but I don’t know what TV shows you guys have here. Or if you can even watch them in Hellmouth.”

“Oh,” Lars says. “Uh, I’m- I’m actually only a few minutes away from you, so it’s easy for me to come over. If you don’t want to be alone. I can bring snacks.”

“I’d like snacks.”

“Text me what you want and I’ll be there in fifteen.”

“Good,” Eugenia says. There’s a lump in her throat. “Thanks, Lars.”

“Any time,” they say, and that’s what finally gets a couple tears out of her: she knows they mean it.

  
  
  
  


2.

One of the Seattle guys is flirting with Randall.

It takes Eugenia a couple games to catch onto it, because she has enough going on without trying to pay attention to every single person’s love life. Old Eugenia had a couple things going on, and that leaves her with a lot of balls to juggle and one hand tied behind her back. And she’s trying to pitch good games, and trying to make sure that her lease and contract are still valid even though she’s technically not the Eugenia Bickle who signed it all, and-

Look, she’s not proud that it takes her forever to realize that Randy’s trying to get advice. It takes a couple series against the Garages to realize that he keeps sticking close to her before games.

Finally, before the first game in one of their series, Eugenia says, “You wanna go get lunch?”

“Yes,” Randall says, practically before she’s finished. “Please. I want to talk to you. It’s important.”

“Sure,” Eugenia says, and grabs her jacket.

They’re in Seattle, which is shaped just differently enough from the Seattle that she knows that she doesn’t bother trying to navigate anywhere. Instead Randy takes the lead and they end up at a cramped little Ethiopian hole-in-the-wall. Nobody looks twice at either of them, clearly two Blaseball players from out of town, and so Eugenia likes it immediately.

It takes until their orders are placed and Randy is sitting there with injera in his hands, ripping little pieces off without eating them, until Eugenia says, “Is this about that captain guy?”

Immediately he drops the bread and buries his face in his hands. “Oh my god, it’s so obvious,” he says mournfully. “I don’t know what to do, and everyone else is going to be weird about it if I ask them. I even tried asking Iggy and they just walked away, and Sandy keeps trying to give me really parental advice, and Nagomi just stared at me until I ended up walking away, and Dom keeps texting me affirmations but I can’t tell if it’s a bit or not-”

“Randall,” Eugenia says. “Breathe. Drink some water.”

Randy drinks some water and gives her a sad, doe-eyed look. “Help,” he says plaintively. “How do I know if he likes me?”

“Ask him,” she suggests. Randy groans, and she frowns. “What? It’s the fastest way to find out.”

“No it’s not, it’s the fastest way to make sure he doesn’t ever want to date me.”

“He might already not want to date you. You asking him about that isn’t going to change that.”

“Eugenia!”

“What?”

Randy takes a big bite of injera and glares at her. “You’re trying to reverse psychology me.”

“I’m not! I think you should ask him!”

“There’s a lesson here, right?”

“Yeah, the lesson is that you should be honest!” Eugenia drums her fingers on the table. “I mean, like, hasn’t he been flirting with you every time you’re here?”

“And every time he’s in Hellmouth.” He gives her the doe-eyes again. “Genie, last time we played he ended up on second base with me, and he said that he wanted me to show him around.”

Eugenia blinks. “Isn’t that basically a marriage proposal by Hellmouth standards?”

“He wouldn’t know that!” Randy all but wails, and takes another distressed bite of bread. He chews very emphatically, still looking sadly at her, and then abruptly makes a choked noise. “Oh my god.”

“What?”

“Genie, oh my god, he’s-”

Eugenia turns around. Theodore Duende, captain of the Seattle Garages, waves at her. She blinks, and then she waves back, because she’s not rude.

“Genie!” Randall hisses. “What if he comes over?”

“Then you say hi,” Eugenia says. “I’ll finman you.”

“You’ll what?”

“You know, be your finman, try and make you look good.”

Randy frowns, nerves vanishing in an instant. “Wingman? Do you guys not call it wingmanning?”

“Do you guys not call it finmanning?”

“Why would it be a fin?”

“Because fins cut through the water like-” Eugenia makes a motion with her hand. “All smooth. You know? Don’t wings have to flap?”

“I mean, bat wings, but birds-”

“Birds absolutely flap their wings-”

“Yeah, and some fish flap their fins, haven’t you seen a turtle-”

“Randy,” Theodore says. Randy and Eugenia both jump, and they make eye contact for exactly long enough to recognize that they both definitely forgot how the conversation started.

Randy’s mouth twitches a little bit, and Eugenia can practically see the tension sloughing off of him as he turns. “Teddy, hey.”

“Hi,” Teddy says. “You, uh- I don’t know if you remembered, I mentioned this place-”

“Is one of your favorites,” Randy finishes, bright-eyed. “Yeah, I thought it was cool. We don’t have a lot of Ethiopian food in Hellmouth. So I thought it would be cool to go. It seemed… it seemed-”

“Cool,” Eugenia finishes. Randy cuts her a dirty look, and she sticks her tongue out.

“It is cool,” Teddy agrees. He’s still looking at Randy. She can practically feel the physical effort it takes for him to wrench his eyes away and turn to her. “I don’t think we met. I mean, I didn’t meet you before either, but-”

“It’s cool.” Eugenia sticks her fist out, and he fist-bumps her hello. “I’m Eugenia. I pitch.”

“I’m Teddy. I’m a captain.”

“Cool. I don’t think we have a captain.” She looks at Randy. “Do we have a captain? You’re, like, my expert on this dimension.”

Randy shrugs. “I’m no expert, I’m just trying to help you out. Get you situated.”

“Well, it seems like you’re doing a great job,” Teddy says. Randy grins, and Teddy grins back, almost like he can’t help it. “I have to go, I came in with Abbott and Spliff and I don’t want to leave them hanging. I just wanted to say hi since I saw you.”

“Yeah,” Randy says. He’s smiling so wide Eugenia can’t believe he can still talk. “Hi. Good luck today.”

“You too. I hope I see you on the field.”

“Yeah,” Randy says again. “Yeah, cool. Cool.”

“Cool,” Teddy agrees. For a second it looks like he’s going to reach out a hand; even Eugenia finds herself holding her breath. But instead he just waves and heads back to his table.

Randy’s eyes stay locked over Eugenia’s shoulder for a good sixty seconds before he looks back at her. “So?”

“Oh, that dude’s head over heels,” Eugenia says, and picks up a piece of injera for herself. “Like, he’s got a crush. He’s in.”

“You think so?”

“Randy, do you ever go say hi to people in restaurants? Even people you like?”

“Of course not.” He leans back in the booth and cranes his neck, still looking over Eugenia’s shoulder. “He’s so cool.”

“He’s alright,” Eugenia agrees. “I think you’re fine.”

Randy smiles at her. It’s not the same big, bright grin; it’s something smaller and warmer. “Thank you for wingmanning me. Or I guess finmanning.”

“Any time.” Eugenia reaches her knuckles out again. “Also, this place rules, and you need to take me out to more good restaurants.”

“Absolutely,” Randy promises, and seals the deal with a fist bump.

  
  
  
  


3.

The Hellmouth Beautification Project is one of the only things that Eugenia inherits that she’s actually excited about. This was the kind of thing that never would’ve gotten off the ground in her Hellmouth, so she’s excited to see it here. Even if she’s not really a gardener.

She doesn’t have enough of a chance between games to sneak off and investigate until the season is more than halfway over. When she gets there, it’s absolutely breathtaking. The greenhouse is everywhere, and it’s nowhere, and it’s huge and it’s full and it’s going to make Hellmouth better. She knows that with absolute certainty.

Eugenia spends hours walking through. She brought a notebook, and she’s glad she did, because she fills nearly the whole thing wandering around and taking notes. Most of the plants do seem desert-oriented, and she has so many ideas for every single one of them.

She’s so busy walking and taking notes, in fact, that she doesn’t realize there’s someone else there until she runs directly into him.

“Oh, shoot,” Eugenia says, and backs up on instinct. “I’m sorry, I didn’t-”

“Don’t worry about it,” the other guy says. He’s wearing a suit, but she can see the edges of a Flowers uniform peeking out around the collar. “I’m just checking up, don’t mind me.”

“Do you work here?”

“Do I work here?” he repeats, and then something in his face changes. “I forgot. You’re one of the ones that got swapped.”

“Yeah,” Eugenia says, because she’s been having variations on this conversation for a while now, and she’s pretty much used to it. “I’ve never been here before. Or, well, Eugenia has, but not me-Eugenia. Old Eugenia.”

“Old Eugenia,” he repeats. “Do you want to be called new Eugenia?”

“I just want to be Eugenia.”

He nods and holds a hand out. “King Weatherman. I pitch for the Flowers.”

She shakes his hand and grins. “A fellow pitcher! Old Eugenia knew a thing or two about good people.”

“That she did,” King says warmly. “So you’re exploring? You need anything?”

“No, I’m just…” she pauses. “Actually, I wanna know about those.”

King follows her eyes to the bush behind him. “Strelitzia reginae. Birds of paradise.”

“They’re beautiful. Can those grow in the desert?”

“Normal deserts, sure.”

“Hellmouth isn’t a normal desert.”

“Of course not. That’s why we’re trying to grow them here. It’s practice.”

“But how are you going to get them ready for Hellmouth?”

King stares at her for a long minute. “Can you keep a secret, Eugenia?”

“Of course,” Eugenia says. “Also, I’m technically in charge here so I have to know confidentiality, or whatever. So like I said, yes, I can keep a secret.”

“So can I,” King says, but he winks as he says it. And then she notices the little swirling motion that he’s doing with his left hand, just below where she can see. And then she notices the water vapor rising off the birds of paradise, almost like steam.

She looks at the flowers for a moment longer before turning to King. “Did you say your last name was Weatherman?”

“Sure did.”

“Did you change it? Because of the powers?”

“Nah.” He smiles. “It just fits. You know how things just fit sometimes, Eugenia?”

She looks around the greenhouse and then smiles at him. “Yeah, I do. I’m gonna keep exploring. Is there anywhere I should look?”

“Everywhere,” King says. “You want a tour guide? I can catch you up on the details of running the place. The other Flowers and I have been trying to let you take your time and recover, but I’m sure we’d be happy to have you back.”

“Have you been running the place?”

“Not on the record,” King answers, and Eugenia nods in understanding. That sounds more like her dimension. “Let me give you the grand tour. As a welcome back.”

“Thank you,” Eugenia says, and it’s not enough to encompass her gratitude, but it’s a start.

  
  
  
  


4.

They lose Emmett.

It’s so much faster than the cremations from Eugenia’s homeworld, and it’s so much worse for it. One minute they’re there, and the next they’re gone, and that’s the end of it. They get a new player. They keep playing. But they lost Emmett.

Eugenia spends the whole night practicing her pitches. It’s the only thing that makes sense. Emmett’s gone, and it’s not like she knew them, but she also knew them, and they were nice to her, and they’re gone. And that’s wrong. But at least she can pitch a ball like nobody’s business. At least, she hopes she can.

Ninety minutes into the session, Nagomi says, “You’re not going to be able to play if you keep doing that.”

Eugenia lets out a yelp and spins around. Nagomi is behind her, standing just the wrong side of too close to her, looking expectantly at her.

“I can play,” Eugenia says. “Don’t worry about it.”

“I’m not,” Nagomi says. “Because you’re going to stop.”

“Why am I going to stop?”

“Because you’re going to come and take a break with me.” Nagomi pauses and then says, helpfully, “Or else.”

Eugenia sighs. There’s no getting out of this.

The thing is - and this is going to the grave with her, she can never, ever say it - she and her Nagomi never got along. Eugenia loved her team, and that included Nagomi, but in her world Nagomi was… unkind. Or maybe just indifferent. It all felt the same. Her Sunbeams also hadn’t been a good team, but Nagomi had been a great batter, and it always felt like she resented the rest of them for being worse at blaseball than she was.

So maybe she’s been avoiding new Nagomi a little bit. Can anyone blame her? She’s pretty sure that Iggy did for a while too, but it’s harder for Iggy to get away with it because they’re in the lineup together. Eugenia, though? If she doesn’t want to talk to Nagomi, she’s not going to talk to Nagomi.

Except Nagomi wants to talk to her. Which is pretty intimidating.

Somewhat predictably, it’s not the way it was with Randy or Lars. They’re not friendly or sociable, and they don’t go places. Instead they end up walking laps around the perimeters of the stadium, through empty concession stands and past TV screens.

Nagomi doesn’t actually say anything, and Eugenia feels like she’s about to explode, so she says, “Let’s go into the stands.”

Nagomi turns and looks at her for a moment. In the shadow, Eugenia can only see her good eye. She looks sad.

“Okay,” she says, and so Eugenia leads the way into the stands. “I’ve never done this before.”

“I’ve never done it here.” They end up in one of the lower sections of seating. All the seats are a little bit melted, even down here, so they both avoid touching any of the seats or bleachers. Eugenia doesn’t go into the seats at first, just walks around the back of the back row. “I used to do it in my stadium.”

“Why?”

“Perspective.”

“What perspective?”

“If you look out there, if you-” Eugenia points out to the pitcher’s mound. “Imagine me standing there.”

“Okay,” Nagomi says slowly. “Why?”

“I don’t know.” She squints a little, trying to envision herself. It doesn’t come as easily as it used to. “Why do any of us play out there? But it helps me to remember that it’s not just me being too deep in my head. Anyone here can look out and see me, trying my hardest. It helps me to think about it like a fan.”

“I can see you too.”

Eugenia looks over, just in time to see the shadow around the side of Nagomi’s face flare out. Both of her eyes are there, clear and normal. “What?”

“You need to think about it like you’re a fan. But I can see you too, when I’m standing in the outfield. We all can. That’s a perspective too.”

“I guess.” Eugenia looks back at the outfield and tries to picture Nagomi there. Tries to picture her at home plate, staring down whoever the pitcher is. Tries to place her in the context of cheering fans. “What do you see?”

“You,” Nagomi says. “It’s easy to see things for what they are.”

“Is it?”

“If you know how to look.”

Eugenia looks back at Nagomi and tries to look at her. Her hair’s longer than other Nagomi’s. She holds her head a little higher, and it’s not because she’s trying to look down at Eugenia. It’s because she knows she doesn’t have to.

“Thank you,” she says at last.

Nagomi looks away, back out at the field. “We’ve got to win for Emmett.”

“Yeah.”

“So don’t throw your shoulder out. We need you, Bickle.”

Eugenia swallows. “Thanks,” she says again.

Nagomi doesn’t look back at her, and she doesn’t say anything, and Eugenia’s kind of grateful for that. Instead the two of them look out at the field together. She doesn’t ask what Nagomi’s thinking of, and Nagomi doesn’t ask her. They just… look.

  
  
  
  


5.

Sandoval throws a big party in order to celebrate the end of the season. “Party time,” they explain to Eugenia when she asks. “No reason it shouldn’t be a literal party.”

It’s weird for Eugenia for a bunch of reasons. She’s used to postseasons being spent alone, or at team practice. They had festival season, yeah, but that was more of a suggestion than a mandate. Festival season was when Eugenia caught up on Netflix and ate her body weight in Oreos. But it seems like the Sunbeams - like a lot of the teams, actually - throw real parties.

Sandoval’s party starts at seven, so naturally Eugenia knocks on their door at six o’clock, holding a platter of sandwiches.

They open the door and look her up and down. “You’re early.”

“I got bored,” Eugenia says, like this isn’t happening because she’s so anxious she can feel it boiling under her skin. “I brought food.”

“You didn’t need to do that,” Sandy says, not unkindly. “This is my party, Genie, I’ve got it handled.”

“I’m helping you handle it. Do you need help setting up?”

“My party,” they repeat, but they step to the side so that she can come into their flat. It’s pretty big, the kind of thing you get on a crossing guard salary. “If you absolutely have to help, I can put you to work, but don’t feel like you have to.”

“I’d feel better if I helped,” Eugenia admits. She got here towards the end of the Sunbeams’ last party time, so this is her first chance to really get to know the whole team outside of the main season. And she’d be lying if she said it weren’t a little stressful. 

Sandoval just nods. “I’m trying to cut up some little cucumbers. You wanna help?”

“Sure,” Eugenia says gratefully. “I’m good with a knife.”

“All of us are, it’s part of the tryout process.”

“Yeah, but I’m good with a knife in a kitchen.”

“You didn’t have to use it in the kitchen?”

“Not for tryouts.” Eugenia grins, and Sandoval smiles back, paternal in a way that makes her heart feel full. “Show me those cukes, Sandy, let me at ‘em.”

It’s a lot easier talking to Sandoval than she was expecting. They’re full of stories about their adventures as a crossing guard, and about all the tabloid stories about other teams in the league, and even about what the Moab was like before it fell into Hellmouth. Eugenia chops vegetables and arranges cheese plates and sets out napkins, and she laughs at all the appropriate moments in the stories.

And then Sandoval looks at her expectantly and says, “What about you?”

She smiles, confused. “What about me?”

“Tell me about your team.”

“Isn’t that weird for you?”

“This whole thing is weird for us,” Sandy says kindly. “I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but it’s weird for everyone. And you don’t have nearly as many people to talk to about how weird it is.”

“I have Iggy.”

“And you have me. If you’d like to.”

Eugenia misses her home. She misses it with a ferocity she didn’t know she was capable of. She misses it in ways she thought she could never miss Hellmouth. And she misses her team. Everyone here is just a little off, just two inches diagonal, just a step to the left of where they should be.

And yeah, Eugenia misses her Sandoval. They were a tactile person, in a way that this one isn’t. She went to her Sandoval for hugs, and they went to kickboxing classes together. But they weren’t a feelings person. They weren’t emotional.

“Not today,” Eugenia says eventually. “At least, not right now. But maybe later.”

Sandoval just nods. “It’s an open offer, kid. If you wanna talk, you can always talk to me.”

“Thanks, Sandy.”

“Thanks for helping me set up the place.”

“I had fun,” she says, and she realizes as she’s saying it that it’s true. “Is party time usually fun?”

“Oh, always,” Sandy says. “Teams meet up, you get to make friends, all sorts of stuff. I think that’s how the first Eugenia met the people on the Flowers. If you need someone to make introductions, you just let me know, okay?”

“Okay,” Eugenia says, and Sandoval smiles at her. “Seriously, thank you.”

“Don’t even worry about it, Bickle, that’s what teammates are for. Let’s have some sandwiches, I’m starving. You make these?”

“Absolutely not, I got a catering order.”

“Thank god,” Sandoval mutters, and Eugenia throws her head back and laughs.

  
  
  


+1.

Iggy gets there fifteen minutes before the new decrees come out. “Hi,” they say, sounding out of breath. “Sorry I’m running late, I-”

Eugenia waves them in. “Sit down, it’s fine. You need anything?”

“No, I just-” Iggy sits down on the couch with a huff. There’s a corner of it that’s already a little singed from their general smoldering aura, and they tap their palm against it, a nervous tic that she knows well. “I know none of them this time are about alternate realities, but there are all the decrees that we don’t know what they mean, and what if-”

“What if what?”

Iggy looks up at her, eyes wide. “What if we go back?”

Eugenia lets out a slow breath and sinks down on the couch next to them. “Do you want to go back?”

“Do you?”

“Ig, c’mon.”

“You come on,” Iggy mumbles.

Neither of them are going to say it, and Eugenia’s comfortable with that. It’s easier to think than to say, but the fact of the matter is, this is a better team. This is a kinder team. This Hellmouth is easier to navigate. She has the beautification project. She’s pretty sure that Iggy inherited a spouse from Igneus, and they’re trying to figure out how to navigate that whole situation. There are real parties in party time. They’re making friends on other teams.

They’re having fun. Eugenia can’t remember the last time she had fun playing blaseball.

She reaches over and pulls on the oven mitt that she keeps for this exact purpose, then takes Iggy’s hand in hers. “It’s gonna be okay.”

“It was supposed to be okay last time.”

“Yeah, and look at us now.”

Iggy smiles faintly. “Yeah, look at us, huh?”

“On top of a whole new world.” She squeezes their hand, and they squeeze hers back. “Even if we end up somewhere else, I think we’ll be okay.”

“What if it’s not both of us together?”

“I think I’d be happy to be lost in any dimension with any of these people.”

“Were you happy it was me?”

“Iggy,” Eugenia says, stunned. “Of course I was.”

“I don’t miss them,” Iggy says. “I mean, I do, but-”

“But it’s hard to miss people who are right in front of you.”

“And who are nicer now.”

“Yeah.” Eugenia settles back on the couch. “But I’m happy it was you.”

“I’m happy it was you too.”

“What now?”

“Now we wait.” Iggy takes a deep breath. “You know, even if it doesn’t happen with this decree, it could happen with another one.”

“I know.”

“What do we do?”

“I don’t know,” Eugenia says, but she thinks about Netflix at three in the morning, and Ethiopian food, and sandwich platters, and greenhouses, and about Nagomi Nava looking at her and really seeing her. “I think we just… keep going until something changes. And then we pick ourselves up and start over and do it again.”

“That’s a nice way of thinking about it,” Iggy says. They sound relieved. “Thanks, Genie.”

“Any time, Iggy,” she says, and squeezes their hand, and together they wait to find out what’s next.

**Author's Note:**

> Come talk to me about Sunbeams pitchers (or, y'know, Blaseball in general) on Twitter or Tumblr @waveridden!


End file.
